His Top Woman
by KatLeePT
Summary: She'll always be his top woman. Mild Spoilers!


She combs her long, blonde hair, watching every movement in her reflection in the mirror across from the bed she now shares with her husband. Her life is so full of wonderful things, but yet her hair is no longer as nice, full, and thick as it once was when she was younger. Topanga touches the strands, replacing the brush with her fingers and strokes her own hair.

She had been the envy of every girl at John Adams, and although she had always pretended not to notice and claimed that she only cared if people liked and respected her for her intellect and personality, she had taken pride in her hair. She wasn't just the smartest girl at John Adams; there had been times, especially in her latter years, when she had been the most beautiful. No one had understood what she had seen in Cory, no one but herself, Shawn, and, as he had once told her in private, Mister Feeny.

Cory hadn't even understood it, but he'd never failed to admit that he was lucky to have her attention and love. He hadn't taken her for granted at all until their college years, even though at times it had felt like he preferred to be with Shawn over her, and even in college, he had always come to her, apologized for mistreating her, told her how much he loved her, and admitted again how lucky he was that it was he, out of all the guys in the world, that she wanted. But he hadn't done so tonight.

He had scarcely even noticed she'd been upset. She hadn't spoken through dinner. She had turned away when he had tried to kiss her after kissing Ogie good night. She had been there for him through the whole ordeal with Riley and Mia, but he hadn't noticed, not once, truly that he had hurt her feelings. Topanga sighs as she runs her fingers through her own hair. The strands are still silky, if not as full as they once were, and they should be. After all, she still brushes her hair over a thousand times a day.

"Topanga!" Cory exclaims, coming into their room after dropping Mia off and tucking Riley into bed. He bounces onto their bed, not noticing her demure silence, and she knows he's sitting there expectantly without looking at him or his reflection. "Aren't you going to ask me how my night went?"

"How did your night go, Cory?" she replies dutifully, and it is then, as their eyes meet in their mirror, that he realizes she's upset.

Immediately, he slides down the bed to be with her. "Topanga, what's wrong?"

"Who said anything was wrong?" She shrugs and forces a cheery smile. "I'm fine. Why? Aren't you fine?"

He squints at her with that look he's always gotten when he was trying to see through a facade to the truth within the matter and didn't understand what was happening. "I'm fine," he speaks slowly, "but you're not." She's returned to brushing her hair, but he takes her hand, removes the brush, sits it on their bed, and, holding both hands now, gazes into her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Her facade falls, the hidden truth crumpling her countenance. She's never been able to hide anything from him for long. "I'm no longer your top girl."

"What are you talking about?"

"Tonight, when you said that you'd lost your two top girls and had no one left." She had acted then like it hadn't bothered her, but the more time had passed and he hadn't corrected his mistake, the more she had dwelled upon it. "I'm still beautiful, aren't I?"

"Oh, Topanga, you are GORGEOUS! Every man who sees you wants you! Why do you think I always carry a newspaper on the subway train? I have it in case I need to beat some guy with it!"

She grins and laughs a little. "Oh, Cory," she says, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

"Your hair still shimmers like a golden waterfall," he tells her, watching the movement, and then blushes.

"Where did you get that line from?" she teases.

"It was in one of the first poems I wrote about you." His blush deepens. "I never gave you that one."

"You were crazy about me." She smiles.

"I still am." He leans forward, her hands in his. "I always will be," he promises her, pledging a love with a kiss that's been too long in coming.

She returns his kiss deep and full; then he lifts his curly head to whisper, "The kids are in bed."

Her eyes open wide, as though she can't believe what he's just suggested. "Cory Matthews!"

He grins. "I did marry you for a reason, honey."

"I thought it was because you were crazy about me." She pretends to pout again.

"Oh, I am! I am, and that's why I want you! Can't we . . . Can't we you know?"

Her forehead presses against his. She scrunches up her nose the way he's always loved. "If you're a good boy," she tells him.

"I have been, haven't I been?"

She laughs, a sound that's always been musical to his ears. "You have," she agrees, kissing him and leading him slowly down to their bed.

"I'm sorry I didn't say you were my top girl earlier, honey, but I guess that's because I don't think of you as a girl any more. You'll always be my top woman. I'm sorry if - "

"Cory?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Hush." She closes his mouth again with her fingers, then replaces them with her own mouth. He has been a good boy. He's kept her happy all these many years and never strayed but once, long before they were married. She's going to reward him this night and make him, make them both in truth, very, very happy indeed.

The End


End file.
